The Last Seduction
by Mindy35
Summary: KIBBS. Sequel to Thirty Candles. He was seduced by her long ago but never knew it.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Last Seduction

Author: MindyH

Rating: T, sexual references.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to DPB et al. Lyrics belong to (The Goddess) Sarah McLachlan.

Spoilers: Not unless you still count the pilot as a spoiler.

Summary: KIBBS. He was seduced by her a long time ago but never knew it.

A/N: Sequel to "Thirty Candles". It will probably make sense if you haven't read that story but it will make much more sense if you have.

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_Please Note: THIS IS NOT THE FULL VERSION OF THIS STORY. I will post the first three and the final chapter, all rated T, here for younger readers. However, there are two chapters, rated NC17, which mature readers can access when I post the story in its entirety at The NCIS Fanfiction Archive. __It is not up there yet, but will be shortly, I promise! __Thanks again for reading, hope you enjoy! M._

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"_It doesn't mean much, doesn't mean anything at all,_

_the life I've left behind me is a cold room,_

_I've crossed the last line from where I can't return, _

_where every step I took in faith betrayed me,_

_and led me from my home. _

_And sweet, sweet surrender is all that I have to give._

_You take me in, no questions asked,_

_you strip away the ugliness that surrounds me. _

_Are you an angel? Am I already that gone? _

_I only hope that I won't disappoint you when I'm down here on my knees._

_Sweet, sweet surrender is all that I have to give…"_

_-x-_

_Part I_

She cannot imagine a more perfect day.

She feels utterly drained and exhausted. Her limbs ache dully and her shoulders burn with the remnants of too much sun. Her skin is damp with a mixture of sweat and seawater and her hair is tangled and windblown. As she rests her forehead against the car window, watching the street lights flick past, her eyelids droop with something akin to jetlag.

And yet, she has never felt so happy or so content.

If this is what it's like to be thirty, Kate thinks, she doesn't know what she was so anxious about. If today is any indication, it's going to be one amazing year. Perhaps all the articles in the magazines are correct and her thirties will truly be the best time of her life.

Or perhaps she is just on a Jethro Gibbs high.

She snuggles under the light blanket that Gibbs found on his backseat and glances across at his face dimly lit by the glowing dashboard.

The previous night, she'd crawled into bed drunk, miserable and lonely. She'd played over in her mind the implausible scene of dancing so intimately with her imposing boss. But as her eyes welled with shameless tears, she forced him from her mind, lulling herself to sleep in the ersatz comfort of her own arms wrapped tightly about her unhappy body.

She had never expected the knock on her door that came the following morning or the surprise her boss had sprung on her for her thirtieth birthday. She'd been entirely incapable of hiding or suppressing her glee. She felt so incredibly touched by his uncommon idea of a birthday gift, overwhelmed by the unexpected gesture. It showed more than just taste and time and esteem. It seemed to hint at something far more profound.

When they hit the ocean, her face held high against the beckoning wind and her skin embracing the early morning rays, her heart was soaring with hope and expectation. She'd been utterly high on emotion all day, in fact. The idea of spending a full day out at sea with her normally distant boss had her feeling consistently woozy, silly, scattered, lustful, excited, impulsive.

But Gibbs was not her boss today, she'd reminded herself. In fact, there was very little present of their usual, professional dynamic.

He was eager to share his love and knowledge of boats with her, teach her the basics of sailing. Kate was more than happy to listen, studying his large hands and strong arms tugging at the tackle and manipulating the sails into proper order. And she was equally eager to learn, pulling at the ropes he told her to and helping him hoist the sails into the receiving wind.

Although the concept still sat in the back of her not fully functioning brain, she honestly had not harbored any serious intention to seduce her boss on their impromptu voyage. But they did share three more kisses on board the _May December. _Considering they were out on the ocean, alone, for over eight hours, she thinks really she showed remarkable restraint.

The moments arose naturally, spontaneously -- and Kate found that she just could not let them pass. She simply couldn't help herself -- not that she tried too hard to resist.

Gibbs had looked gorgeous, in his beloved element. With the sapphire sea surrounding him and the wind ruffling his hair, he looked so damn edible, so damn male, so damn good. She'd eyed him shyly in his jeans and simple, short-sleeved white shirt, unbuttoned an extra inch to expose a hint of tanned skin and silver chest hair. Something told her that he wouldn't exactly resist her advances.

Something deep and obscure had altered the night before. The little spark that neither had fostered but both were aware of since they first met had erupted into an open and insatiate fire. And once alight, it couldn't be dampened again. For once, she and Gibbs weren't shying away from each other; they weren't ignoring or destroying their obvious attraction.

Their first kiss aboard the _May December_ arose when Gibbs offered her control of the craft. They'd been sailing for a while mostly in silence, an easy wind pushing them over the sparkling waves while a few other boats skirted around the horizon.

He beckoned her and Kate immediately obeyed, stepping closer as Gibbs moved aside. She sat down, between him and the long limb of the tiller, feeling his arm curl about her back and his hand settle beside hers to help her steer. He shifted closer, the material of his jeans brushing her bare leg as he began murmuring in her ear about wind and velocity and current.

All she could focus on, though, was his nearness. She'd turned her head to look up at him, tracing with rapt eyes the strong line of his jaw, the sharp slant of his nose and his speaking lips as he gazed out over the nose of the vessel.

After a moment, realizing that she wasn't listening, he turned and looked down at her, strangely amused, faintly bemused.

"Concentrate," he ordered quietly.

"I am," she insisted softly, her mouth turning up in a slightly wicked grin.

"On steering," Gibbs clarified, his hand picking up hers from where it had unconsciously dropped and placing both of them back on the tiller.

The action did nothing for her concentration at all. Gibbs turned back to watching their course and tried to resume his instruction but he couldn't ignore the way she was looking at him with a meditative little smile on her face.

"Kate…" he sighed impatiently, turning back to her.

But as soon as their eyes met, his words stopped. She could feel her eyes glowing with warmth and her heart thumping with excitement. It was so sinfully easy to just tip her head back in complete and utter mindless surrender and let her lips fall into his.

Gibbs parted his lips slightly to meet her and time seemed to suspend for a moment as their mouths slid over one another, tugging and tasting and savoring. She reached up with one hand to caress the jaw she'd been admiring, her fingers drifting slowly, lightly up and down the stubble and skin. She couldn't help a little whimper as Gibbs' teeth scraped over her bottom lip, then his tongue whipped out to smooth over the same spot.

They drew apart, knowing that what they were exploring was only the tip of an enormous, mysterious, intimate iceberg. He shot her another inscrutable look, his eyes scanning her face momentarily before they both turned back to steering the boat.

The second opportunity for her to get closer to Gibbs arose when they stopped for lunch. The sun was high and hot when Gibbs threw the anchor down and she pulled out their lunch. The man had even managed to find and pack her favorite sandwich and iced tea.

They sat on the ship's bow, side by side, legs dangling overboard, as they gazed out at the beautiful landscape. Each holding a sandwich in one hand and a bottle of drink between their legs, they munched and chatted, broaching only fairly general and safe topics.

During a lull in the conversation, Kate had glanced over at her unlikely birthday companion. Slipping her sunglasses up onto her head, she noticed a dollop of mustard lingering around the corner of Gibbs' mouth. She smiled and reached out, wiping it off with her thumb. Gibbs turned to look at her; then, without looking away, he swiped the back of his hand over his whole mouth and gave her a childish grin.

She grinned back and leaned in, capturing his lips with her own and giving him several quick, affectionate, slurpy kisses. She kept her eyes open, squinting through the glare of the sunlight as she watched his eyes close and his mouth grin, kissing her back.

When she pulled away, Gibbs sighed lightly, tucking her hair behind her ear then taking another big bite of his sandwich. Refusing to destroy a gorgeous day or their enjoyable behavior with endless second-guessing or internal disapprobation, Kate simply drew her sunglasses back over her eyes and turned back to the view.

In the dark car, she rolls onto her other side, curling her legs beneath her and resting her head on the curve of the seat, her face turned towards Gibbs. She knows he's not watching and that, even if he were, it's too dark for him to see the blush on her cheeks. But somehow, she fears he will know in that bizarre way he has, exactly what she is thinking of.

The last kiss that they shared was the most memorable. The first two times that she kissed him -- while he certainly didn't resist – Gibbs' response had been slightly hesitant, restrained, even puzzled.

By mid-afternoon, he was thoroughly relaxed. Warmed by the sun and her previous offerings, he lay dozing, stretched comfortably on the starboard bench, with legs crossed at the ankles and her white captain's hat sitting over his face. Only his mouth was visible from beneath the brim, turned upwards in a sleepy, contented smirk. His chest rose and fell, his breathing deep and rhythmic as they floated idly, anchored on the rippling water, the white sails flapping overhead.

Rising from where she'd been sitting, deep in thought, Kate had tiptoed closer and leant over him, coveting that idiosyncratic smirk more than ever. One hand braced her against the edge of the boat as she peered down at him. She smiled softly, her eyes drifting over him-- then slowly she lowered her lips until they hovered over his.

Taking a silent breath, she moved in, touching down gently and tugging at his lips once with a sweet, gentle urgency.

As she slowly withdrew, a large hand rose to pull her down again and all of a sudden, Gibbs began to reciprocate with all the passion she'd suspected he'd been denying and withholding all day. He pushed her lips apart, tasting her with his tongue and groaning deeply. Pulling her closer, she fell to her knees, kneeling beside the bench where he lay and draping herself over his chest.

One small, daring hand slipped inside the opening of his shirt, roving over the muscular contours of his chest as she kissed him with everything she had. He turned towards her, one hand cupping her head and the other clasped about her waist, keeping her close as the cap fell from his face to the deck.

Curled up beside Gibbs in his car, Kate nearly groans aloud at the memory.

The sun has disappeared entirely now, taking with it all the warmth of the day. It feels like they've been gone for days, weeks; a lifetime. She could have spent forever out there on the open waters with him. Morning seems like an aeon ago and already she dreads Monday morning when she will have to forget all about the peace and bliss and fun that they have experienced together today.

She wishes it didn't have to end. She wishes she didn't have this dinner to go to. She is trying to enjoy the last few moments she has with Gibbs, while still hoping that he might choose to come with her.

She'd suggested it as they headed back to the coast. Somehow, she thought it important to ask before they were ashore again. She's not entirely sure that he won't dismiss what happened between them on the high seas as a anomalous event, just a bit of meaningless flirting, a rare indulgence for both of them. She's not at all sure that the rules on land are as free as they were at sea.

"Gibbs," she'd spoken up hesitantly, shivering in the cooling wind: "This dinner tonight is very casual. Just a few friends, my sister's in town with her husband. No big deal…" she added, attempting to sound nonchalant: "but you're welcome to come."

Gibbs looked over at her in the deepening sunset light, his blue eyes fixed on her intently. And she knew there was no point in trying to hide or pretend. She stood and moved closer, sitting beside him and gazing out at the disappearing horizon for a moment. Then she turned to him, looking him in the eye.

"I'd love you to come," she amended softly.

Gibbs smiled slightly, but didn't respond. He just nodded ambiguously, which she took to mean he'd consider the idea.

She doesn't want to even think about the dinner right now. She doesn't feel like dressing up and going out. She is not even excited about seeing her friends or sister. The car is warm and quiet and she is content to just admire Gibbs' hands as he drives.

The only thing that could make her happier right now is a soft bed or a hot bath. Preferably with his big body curled up against her.

She smiles to herself and hums quietly at the inviting image. But her imaginary contentment evaporates when she starts to recognize the streets and signposts of her own neighborhood. Shutting her eyes, she burrows deeper into her warm cocoon, wishing to remain in her fantasy world a little longer.

Sooner than she wants, however, the car pulls up and the engine dies. She feels Gibbs turn to her, assuming she is asleep. He lets out a breath and sweeps a stray lock of hair off her face.

She opens her eyes, catching his thoughtful expression before he has a chance to mask it. She gazes up at him, silent and content, as he shifts in his seat and points down the street at her building.

"Home," he murmurs, glancing back at her: "safe and sound."

She smiles back but doesn't move. He's gonna have to kick her butt out of this car, she thinks stubbornly. Maybe if she's really lucky, he'll actually carry her inside.

"Tired?" he asks, quietly amused.

She nods and groans low in her throat: "In a good way," she sighs, stretching her limbs a little beneath the blanket. She drops her eyes and mumbles: "I wish I didn't have this thing to go to…"

"You know," he muses, staring out the front window: "I might tag along tonight."

He turns to look at her, eyebrows raised questioningly, waiting for her to raise any objections. Her own brows rise sleepily in surprised response. If he's expecting any resistance on her part, he is going to be sorely disappointed.

She just nods and replies lightly: "Okay."

"I'll, ah…" he shrugs and jabs a thumb at the boat on the trailer behind them: "I'll just lock up her ladyship, change my shirt and I'll be back to pick you up in--" he glances at the clock on the dashboard: "an hour?"

"Alright," she nods, suddenly not so sleepy or sad.

This is a very unexpected turn of events. She opens her door and slips out of the car, shivering as she unwraps herself and leaves the blanket on the passenger seat. He lifts her bag off the back seat and hands it across to her, their fingers brushing slightly. She flicks her eyes back to his, one hand on the car door and the other pulling her bag up over her shoulder.

"Thanks for today, Gibbs," she smiles, unable to fully communicate what his birthday gift has meant to her: "It was… beautiful and … perfect."

"Good," nods Gibbs shortly then starts the engine again. "One hour," he tells her, hands already spinning the wheel.

She nods in response, slamming the door and watching him drive away with the _May December_ in tow. Then, she dashes up the sidewalk to her building, a high-pitched giggle escaping her as she takes the stairs two at a time and crashes through the front door, her heart fluttering with expectation.

_TBC…(soon!)_


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Last Seduction

Author: Mindy

See Part One for details.

_Part II_

When she hears Gibbs knock at her door exactly an hour later, she is not ready. She is on her hands and knees, scrounging around her wardrobe for a lost shoe. She groans in frustration, getting to her feet and nearly tripping over her long, satin robe.

Since the minute she'd flown back in the door, still high on Jethro Gibbs, everything had gone wrong.

She showered quickly, washing from her body the residual sea spray. But then, a large stain had somehow materialized on the hem of the new dress she'd planned to wear; forcing her to chose another one. She couldn't find the shoes she wanted to wear, remembering suddenly that Abby had borrowed them for her latest court appearance.

She dropped an earring down the bathroom drain, poked her eye with mascara and ripped two nails, trying to hastily yank the price tags off some lavish underwear, which finally she had half an excuse to wear.

Meanwhile, the phone had been ringing every five minutes with friends and family wanting to wish her a happy birthday and recap the past thirty years of her life. After a polite interval of chatting with each, she had to excuse herself and tell them she had a celebratory dinner to attend.

She'd just gotten off the phone with her great aunt who, while she was ferreting around her wardrobe for a decent pair of evening shoes, was supplying her with the stats on a handsome, young doctor that she'd recently met while in hospital. Kate refrained for as long as she could, before blurting out that, in fact, a tall, strong, gorgeous man was picking her up that very night to take her to her birthday dinner.

As she rushes to answer the tall, strong and gorgeous man knocking at her door, Kate catches her harried reflection in the hall mirror and realizes she still has curlers in her hair. She rolls her eyes, hearing Gibbs knock again, somewhat impatiently. She really hadn't expected him to be back on time – he must have broken every road rule in the book in order to make it. Not that that should surprise her.

"Coming!" she calls, continuing down the hallway.

She'd wanted to look absolutely perfect for this. By the time he returned, she'd wanted to look her very best for him. After all, this was a date with Jethro Gibbs -- at least, she thinks it's a date. She's not really sure. She hasn't had time to mull it over. All she knows is -- this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Her gut is vibrating, her head is spinning, her heart is humming.

Checking that her robe is not gaping anywhere, she pulls open the door to see Gibbs standing on her threshold, clean-shaven and well groomed. As promised, he has changed the white shirt he was wearing during the day to a fresh, crisp, black one. His hair is brushed back neatly and his face shows the aftereffects of the sun they both received today. The effect is striking and her eyes linger a little too long over him.

"You're not dressed," he points out, blankly, stepping inside.

Kate shakes herself. "I'll only take a minute, I promise…" she mumbles, closing the door and trying to scuttle away before he gets a good look at her.

But Gibbs grabs her arm, pulling her back to face him as he examines the colored, velcro rollers in her hair. She hates the things but she had to do something to tame the mess that the sea wind had made of her.

He stares at her incredulously. "You look like an alien," he tells her matter-of-factly.

"Thank you, Gibbs," she mutters sarcastically, rolling her eyes and turning to leave again.

His grip on her arm increases, tugging her back again and, this time, even closer. She finds herself in his arms, her chest brushing his as his arms loosely encircle her waist. Her hands land on his arms without permission and she gazes up at him in surprise.

"Oka-ay," he amends, dipping his head and meeting her eyes: "…a very cute alien."

She smiles a little, her heart jumping into her throat. It feels incredible to be held so close to him, to feel his body through just a thin layer of clothing. But she cannot play a love scene with the man she has adored for years while she looks and feels like a clown.

Gibbs still has a mystified expression on his face as he reverts to studying her head full of rollers. "What the hell are those things?" he asks, poking a finger at one.

She purses her lips and bats his hand away. "They make me pretty," she retorts, attempting to free herself from his hold.

"No, they don't," he replies flatly, just as she succeeds in slipping out of his arms.

With her back to him, she falters momentarily, her eyes dropping to the floor. She feels her heart sink a little and her vanity smash into tiny pieces at her feet. She's relieved that he can't see her face fall.

She'd wanted to look perfect for him. She'd wanted Gibbs' eyes to light up with admiration and desire. She'd wanted to feel beautiful in his eyes. And -- she admits it -- curlers or not, she wants her boss to think she's pretty.

"I'll just, ah…" she mumbles fadedly, without looking back at him: "I won't take long."

She starts to move away again, heading for her bedroom, but is surprised when Gibbs' hands land tentatively on her shoulders. He gently draws her backwards and she feels him sidle up close behind her. His heat and his bulk are electrifying against her back and his breath brushes her neck as he leans down to whisper in her ear.

"I don't think that these weird little things," he tells her slowly and she can feel his eyes roving up over her trapped hair: "…have anything to do with it," he finishes, his lips brushing against her ear.

She feels his gaze wander down the side of her face, tracing her neck and plunging into her cleavage. Her eyes slip closed and she sways lightly on her feet. They stand locked in position for a moment, both enjoying the current that passes between their enraptured bodies.

Then, she feels Gibbs move, his head lowering and his lips hovering over her flushed skin. With her hair up in the rollers, her neck and shoulder tingle with vulnerability and sensitivity. Each millimeter longs for his attention.

He chooses the perfect spot, laying a soft, wet, open-mouthed kiss on the back of her neck, just left of her spine. She whimpers softly, feeling her head loll and her knees weaken.

"Hmm… Very…" he murmurs softly, his fingers brushing aside a few stray wisps at the nape of her neck. He presses closer to her from behind, his voice distant: "…very…" He leans in and deposits another hot kiss, a little longer, a little lower, right on the spot where her neck becomes her shoulder: "…very pretty," he finishes in a raspy voice.

She swallows her burgeoning arousal and her heart rate picks up exponentially. She hasn't felt this excited in years. Truthfully, she's not sure that she's ever experienced this level of excitement. She's not sure what do to with herself.

She's not sure whether to stand still and see how far Gibbs takes this. Or whether to turn in his arms and reciprocate with a few carefully placed kisses of her own. A part of her still wants to rush to her room and finish getting ready so that she doesn't feel quite so vulnerable. While another much stronger part just wants to rip that black shirt off his body and guide him to her bed.

"Kate…?" Gibbs murmurs in her ear, after a long moment.

"Hmmm?" she sighs, opening her eyes dreamily and beginning to float back to earth.

He runs the back of a finger down the side of her neck very slowly, watching its progress with rapt eyes: "I think you should get dressed," he tells her, still in that quiet, seductive tone.

"Hm?" she questions vaguely, turning and gazing up at him from over her shoulder.

One corner of his mouth lifts as his eyes drop to trace her parted lips. His hands smooth from her shoulders down her arms to her elbows and slowly, back again. The heat of his palms makes her feel like she is melting from within.

"We'll be late for your dinner," he reminds her, shifting on his feet and withdrawing slightly.

She nods dumbly then heads towards her bedroom, her body still thrumming with sensation. As she faces the mirror in her bedroom and absently pulls the rollers out of her hair, arranging the curls in a carefully mussed style, her usual clarity and sense begins to return.

Perhaps it is time to up the stakes, she thinks to herself. Initially, her efforts at seducing her boss were undecided and unfocused. Actually, she had been a little concerned about scaring him off.

She knew when it came to personal matters and particularly matters of the heart, Gibbs was cautious, insecure and somewhat inept. Her secret desire had had a long time to percolate and her younger heart was strong and whole and full, waiting for him.

But now, Gibbs seemed to be not just following her lead, but plotting a seduction of his own. The very thought flooded her with passion and confidence, trepidation and abandon. It was time to meet him halfway and see how far they wanted to take this.

Finishing with her hair, she leans in to double check her makeup, running one finger beneath the pout of her bottom lip, liberally painted and glossed. Then giving herself a quick spray of perfume, she strides over to her bed where her dress is laid out. Shucking off her robe and throwing it over the bedspread, she slips the red material over her head, pulls it into place and fastens the zipper.

Hastily, she peers under the bed for her still missing shoe while simultaneously putting on the one she has found and adjusting the straps. She only wore them last night, she sulks, hopping around her room and trying to locate its pair, it's got to be somewhere close.

Turning around, she notices Gibbs standing in the doorway. He raps on the frame uncertainly, giving her a deliberate once over with his blue eyes as she stands amid the chaos of her room, strewn with clothes and lingerie and footwear. She has no idea how long he'd been standing there, or whether he'd just arrived, but an embarrassed flush rises to her cheeks.

"Thought you might need this…" he murmurs, holding up her fugitive shoe: "Didn't mean to…" he waves his hand once, indicating his accidental intrusion.

"Oh, um…" she shakes her head, looking at the carpet as she hobbles over to him. "…thanks," she says softly, taking the shoe from his hand and making a mental note to close her bedroom door in the future when there are gorgeous men wandering around her apartment.

She puts a hand on Gibbs' arm, balancing herself as she slips the other shoe onto her foot. His hand reaches out to grasp her elbow to help her balance. She straightens, lowering her foot to the floor and flicking her hair out of her eyes.

She stares at him for a long moment, her eyebrows furrowed and her brain repeating the same question. "How long were you standing there?" she finally asks, a little suspicious.

One corner of his mouth turns slowly upwards in a wicked, smug smirk and his eyes twinkle as he leans in to kiss her, lightly. "Very -- _very_ pretty…" he murmurs roughly against her mouth, then disappears down the hallway again.

Kate is left blinking and panting in her doorway. She has now had Jethro Gibbs in her bedroom. That's about as close to heaven as she may ever get – especially considering her current train of thought.

It's definitely time for her to up the stakes and follow through on her seduction of her boss, she muses. It is time to claim her piece of heaven on earth.

As she stuffs lip-gloss and money and keys into her evening bag, she catches her flushed reflection in the mirror, her eyes glowing with determination, her mouth open with lust. Taking a calming breath, she surveys her finished appearance momentarily, smoothing her hands down over her hips and straightening her shoulders.

Jethro Gibbs won't know what hit him, she promises herself. The man has no idea how much trouble he's in. And, possibly-- she adds nervously as she breezes out the door -- _neither does she_.

_TBC…_


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Last Seduction

Author: MindyH

_Part III_

Kate's hand is on his leg and it's driving him crazy. Actually, she's been driving him crazy all night. He's not sure how much more of it he can stand. She's gonna kill him if she keeps this up.

First, it was the dancing. Just one dance, she'd said, as a birthday treat. He'd tried to refuse, but truthfully, Gibbs liked to dance. There was something so simple and sensual about holding a beautiful woman in a slow dance -- hands and hips and breaths and heartbeats in sync.

What was not to like? It was basically foreplay with clothes on. And Gibbs liked foreplay -- especially these days when play of any kind was an extreme rarity for him.

And this had been Katie Todd asking him to dance, Katie Todd in his arms, pressed against his chest, moving with his body. Resistance was futile.

She'd been a juicy little temptation parading around his office and the back of his ravenous mind for years.

He'd spent much of that time secretly tracing and memorizing her delicate curves and finest features. He even had favorites -- like the little nook where her ass turned into her thigh. Or the inviting dip between her breasts – that was an obvious one.

He'd actually spent hours contemplating the freckle on her neck. It drove him nuts just thinking about it, wondering what it might taste like. At first, he pondered whether the little mark on her pale flesh was actually a freckle or a mole. But a mole just sounded unattractive. And there was nothing about Katie Todd that Gibbs found unattractive.

Nevertheless, the morning after their strangely unsettling and intensely thrilling dance together he was still telling himself that they could keep things on a professional and amicable basis. He'd planned the surprise for her birthday, still believing that they were just coworkers socializing for a day.

That notion lasted until about two seconds after she opened the door. There was something about a woman in pajamas that bewitched Gibbs. There was something about Katie Todd with bedhead that rendered him stupid.

She was usually so professional, so orderly and impeccable. It never ceased to thrill him to see her hair all mussed and askew. Any innocent or impersonal thoughts he had left lingering in his sex-starved brain went flying out the window when she threw herself into his arms, in her soft flannel pjs.

That's when she started with the kissing. That first little touch in her apartment; then the three she planted on him while they were on the boat. Nothing had ever tested his self-control more. He could spend an eternity discovering her mouth.

Those kisses -- those three indescribable, incredible, seductive kisses. The first, languid and breathy. The second, sweet and warm. And the last, impassioned and hungry and utterly uncontrollable.

That third kiss, he knows, is going to become a cherished fantasy for him from now on. His Captain Katie drenched in sunlight, hair fluttering on the breeze, on a cramped boat, on glittering waves, on a gorgeous day, kissing him senseless. It's the sort of memory that keeps an old man sane and warm when he is alone and decrepit.

He kissed her back. Despite his hesitancy, he couldn't help but kiss her back. He doesn't know a man alive that could've resisted her. Although, he did succeed in not throwing her to the deck or ripping off her clothes or making wild, passionate love to her. So maybe, he's stronger than he thinks.

But, now she starts with the touching – all night, little strokes here and there, her hand brushing his or resting on his arm. And he knows his prized self-control is slipping and he's not sure he's going to last the night without doing at least one of those things to her. He just hopes he can wait until they are out of the restaurant.

He glances across at her, scrutinizing her profile as she sits demurely in her chair and chats blithely with her buddy from the Secret Service. Meanwhile, beneath the tablecloth, her hand lazily strokes his knee. She laughs at something the other man has said, then turns to meet his steady gaze, her eyes alight with mirth and buried anticipation.

They are both on edge from a full day's incessant flirtation. He can't really blame her for teasing him, he muses, as she turns back to her conversation with Ed, from her previous agency. Especially after the stunt he pulled at her apartment.

Really, he would've been much safer just dropping Kate off and going home to work on his boat. He knew if he accepted her invitation to dinner, he would be accepting much more as well. He would be inviting more of her delightful little seduction games, he would be expecting more of that tantalizing pleasure that they'd indulged in while aboard the _May December_.

But he couldn't help himself. He was sick of being safe. He was sick of being alone. He was sick of self-doubt and abstinence and cynicism and regret.

And there was Katie Todd curled up beside him, all sleepy and sweet and adorable, looking at him like… – he can't even put words to the way she looks at him, the way she makes him feel.

In that moment, when he'd looked at her, he wanted to give her everything, protect her and hold her, and make her as happy for the rest of her life as she had been on her birthday. So, despite all the reasons not to, he'd said yes, he'd take her to the dinner.

He'd driven like a maniac, cut off or pissed off half of the population of DC to make it back to her place in time. All he could think about was seeing her again, touching her again. As he drove, it occurred to him that he'd given very little back to her, shown no indication of how he felt about her.

Truthfully, he wasn't really sure how he felt. He never expected, at his age, to feel something for a woman he never had before. In spite of his advanced age and marital record, whatever was developing between him and his young subordinate was nothing he'd experienced before. And knowing that threw him slightly off-balance.

But he put great faith in Kate Todd. He'd recognized a quality about her from the very beginning. She was fiercely loyal, remarkably perceptive, extremely kind. And she cared for him – he'd known it for a long time.

She was not out to break his heart. Even though he knows she could so easily destroy him, absolutely shatter him. But, even if she did -- which he seriously doubted -- he knew it would be completely worth it. He knew she was worth the risk.

The only question left to him, was – _what the hell was he waiting for?_

In his car, on his way back to her, he began to imagine what his life might be like if he allowed her in it. He wouldn't miss his old lifestyle one bit.

He'd gladly trade long hours working on his boat, with late nights in her bed. He would happily exchange scotch and sawdust for sparkling eyes and quiet laughter. He would happily replace waking up every morning with a constant caffeine hangover for waking up beside that gorgeous woman and kissing her awake.

In fact, nothing would make him happier than to trade utter loneliness for Katie Todd.

It pleased him that she answered the door looking slightly undone, looking only partly ready. It seemed to him like a glimpse of the future he'd been imagining. He wanted to see her like this – with bedhead, or roller-hair, dressed in pajamas or robe -- or, perhaps… just a sheer bed sheet.

He wanted to see the side of her that no one else did, he wanted to be the only one to witness the secret Kate Todd.

She'd felt so good in his arms and he could tell that she was surprised by his bolder, more assured behavior. He couldn't help but tease her a little, enjoy the way she responded to his touch and his kiss, pay back some of the torment he'd been suffering all day.

Two could play this game, he thought, and he was finally ready to join her team.

In the restaurant, while the others chat about them, Kate deliberately slips her hand higher up his leg, her fingertips caressing the inside of his thigh through his pants. He sucks in a breath, leaning back in his chair.

Suppressing an evil little smile, she picks up her wineglass, sipping delicately. She turns to examine him over the rim for a long moment, then returns to her conversation, entirely unconcerned by his torment.

Squirming uncomfortably, he stretches his arm out over the back of her chair and looks down at her hand in his lap. It looks small against his thick leg, pale against his pants. He wonders if she's truly aware of the effect she's having on him, if she understands the intensity of just that one hand, resting on that one particular spot.

He follows the line of her arm up to her shoulder, takes another long look at her lavishly tousled hair and sumptuously ruby lips and then drops his gaze down over her slender body.

Kate always looks beautiful – even in a flack vest and NCIS cap, she looks beautiful. But how she looks tonight is the stuff that dreams are made of. Wicked, seductive, erotic, exhilarating dreams.

Gibbs has always liked the color red. He developed a proclivity for redheaded women early on in his dating life. But after a while, he realized it was not the color itself that attracted him. He was attracted to a woman with fire, with passion, with deep power. Kate may not have the hair color to match but she has that mysterious fire that he loves, that he falls for and gets lost in.

The burgundy of the dress suits her, the material hugging her sweet frame like an obsessive lover. Its fragile texture makes him want to twist his hands in the silk and see if it rips under the strain. Earlier, he got an unexpected glimpse of what she's hiding underneath.

He hadn't meant to walk in while she was dressing. He supposes now that he should've cleared his throat or walked louder or called out. He really hadn't seen much though – just a glimpse of red underwear, a flash of round ass and creamy thigh, before the dress fell down to cover her body.

There were appetizing little bits of her thrown all over the room, and the air smelled sweet and feminine. He'd never been in her bedroom, but he hopes to visit again very, very soon.

From across the table, Kate's brother-in-law asks him a question and he returns from his trance to reply. Apart from the obvious torture, the evening has been very enjoyable. The small group is agreeable, the food impressive and the wine exceptional.

Kate got a few surprised looks when she turned up with him in tow – especially from her sister. But she simply held on tight to his hand and introduced him to the table. It didn't escape his notice that she made no mention of their working relationship.

They are so far from their professional territory now that to try to go back would be farcical and redundant. Not to mention disappointing. The sexual tension is so close to erupting that he'd be fool to back away now.

Beneath the table, Kate's hand squeezes his thigh and he almost groans aloud. Quickly, his larger hand clamps down over hers, in a warning, while he nods weakly at whatever the others are discussing.

He hides his face in his wineglass, taking a huge sip. He hopes they are not going to ask his opinion again because he's fast loosing higher brain function.

Luckily, two waiters arrive with a fresh batch a food, distracting the others at their table. Kate turns to him coolly, glancing down at his hand covering hers in his lap. He leans closer to her, keeping his voice low so that the others can't hear.

"Kate," he murmurs, urgently: "do you _know_ what you're _doing_?"

She blinks languidly, then casts a quick glance about at her friends, making sure no one is paying attention to them. Leaning right into him, her warm cheek hovers next to his, her sweet perfume steals up into his nostrils and her lush mouth brushes against his ear when she answers.

"Gibbs," she whispers and gives his leg another insistent squeeze: "…_I want you_."

He practically jumps in his seat. She pulls back and stares at him, her eyes glittering and her lips moist. He clears his throat, glancing about them as his grip on her hand increases.

"Move that hand any higher, Katie," he responds, his voice ominous and strained, his eyes flaring fervidly: "and you're gonna find out _exactly_ how much _I_ want you."

Her eyes widen and she gulps. Then, slowly, she retracts her hand and sits back in her chair, stunned and embarrassed. Her chest is rising and falling deeply, as her hands tangle together in her lap and her eyes stare unfocusedly at her plate.

He studies her face, wondering if he's gone a bit too far. But what did she expect, he wonders darkly. Despite how he might sometimes come across, he was not made of steel or stone. Still, now that her unendurably sweet touch is gone, he almost wishes it back again.

"Kate?" asks her sister.

"Huh?" she blinks, raising her head suddenly.

"More wine?" Sarah prompts.

"Oh," Kate shakes her head, a nervous smile breaking out over her face: "--uh huh. No, no wine. I'm good."

"Jethro?" she offers next, flashing a sly grin that tells him that she's not entirely oblivious to what is happening across the table from her. He would expect nothing less from any sibling of Kate's.

"You look like you could use another drink," she purrs, shooting a look at her sister.

"You're very right," he nods, pushing his glass across the table to be refilled.

As he watches the red liquid pour into his glass, the hand dangling from Kate's chair moves to her bare upper arm and he starts drawing small circles on her skin with just his thumb. Picking up his wine and taking a big sip, he turns to look at her, watching an almost imperceptible shiver run down her body in response to his slight touch.

Slowly, she turns back to look at him, her eyes displaying such an overpowering fusion of longing and desire and entreaty that she almost knocks the wind right out of his chest.

He stares at her for a moment and everything surrounding them disappears. For the first time, he realizes that his Katie wants this just as much as he does. She may even have wanted this for as long as he has and has been in just as much pain over their secret pattern of denial and fear.

He never meant to be the chief arsonist, but, bit by bit, everything today has incinerated that prolonged and exhaustive pattern. It's now a mere vapor lingering in the fiery air that envelops them. Somehow, all of a sudden, they are both free of its suffocating restriction.

He smiles at her cautiously, feeling relief wash over his frame like a crashing wave. Then he scoots back and stands up from his chair. He's got to see her for a moment, they've got a few very important points to settle.

He's determined to wipe that desperate look off her face and assure her that tonight, as far as he's concerned, neither of them will be going to bed alone.

"Excuse me, everyone," he murmurs politely, standing behind his chair and addressing the table: "I think I just saw someone I know."

He gives Kate a pointed look as he tucks in the chair and heads in the direction of some total stranger, hoping that she will understand what he's doing. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he quickly rounds the corner, spotting a little nook near the bathrooms that's shrouded by pot pants and a tall screen. Making sure that no one's looking, he ducks behind the screen and waits to see if Kate will follow his lead.

Letting out a big breath, he stalks back and forth in the little alcove, rolling his shoulders a few times and feeling some of his body's tension dissipate. He adjusts his jeans, which were fast becoming too tight for comfort and peers between the leaves for any sign of Kate.

The light doesn't reach far into the corner, so a minute later, when she walks by, searching for him in the other direction, she doesn't see him, lurking in the shrubbery.

He puts out a hand, yanking her into his little sanctuary and she stumbles slightly, her shoulder brushing his chest.

"What are you doing?" she hisses, gaping up at him, surprised and confused.

"What are _you _doing?" he counters, glowering down at her: "You're killin' me out there."

She smiles, ever so slightly smug. "I thought it was obvious what I was doing, Gibbs," she murmurs, lowering her eyes. She reaches out, tentatively slipping her arms around his body and shifting in closer. "….I'm trying to seduce you," she whispers candidly, staring up at him with her deep, coffee eyes.

His mouth tugs upwards at the edges as he regards her intently for a moment. "You've been doing that for years," he murmurs, lightly stroking her cheek with one finger: "What makes tonight any different?"

"Well, I guess…" she muses, biting her lip nervously and letting her gaze sweep over his chest: "tonight," she tells him softly: "I'm actually trying to."

He hums slightly, sliding his hands down around her waist and drawing her into him more fully: "You're doing a damn fine job of it," he rumbles warmly.

"Well, thank you," she sighs, smiling in relief and smoothing her hands up his back: "I'm glad you approve…."

"Oh, I approve…" he mutters, ducking his head to capture her lips: "I really…_really_ approve."

Their mouths melt and meld again as the overpowering heat they share explodes once more. Every time he kisses her is more exciting. Every time, a little more passion, a little more heat and little more feeling seeps out of him and into her.

He backs up a little and lets his body fall back against the wall. He feels Kate follow, stepping forward between his legs, not allowing their mouths to disengage. She brings her hands up to his face, switching angles and tugging at his lips hungrily with her own. A moan escapes her throat as he sucks on her lower lip and boldly moves his hands down to cup her ass through the slippery silk. He squeezes and she gasps, breaking away and opening her eyes to look at him.

"Kate…" he murmurs in dazed agony.

"Yeah…?" she replies, her eyes focused on his mouth.

She has that druggy look again that he beheld earlier in her apartment when he moved so close and kissed her neck. It speaks to him of sex and surrender, trust and love. He'd do anything to keep that look as his own. He'd do anything to see that look everyday for the rest of his life.

His whole body is throbbing for her. He can't take any more suspense. He was seduced by her long ago – but he never actually knew it until today.

Everything seems to have come to a head so fast. Maybe they should be trying to think reasonably about this, consider the consequences of their behavior. They've both been in similar situations; they both know that this particular brand of impulsive can get people into huge trouble. And the last thing he wants is for her to wake up tomorrow morning and tell him she made a mistake.

"Kate, are you sure you want this?" he puffs, closing his eyes briefly and trying to contain himself.

No matter how she answers, he's pretty sure he's going to die of extreme arousal very soon. He feels her stir against his body, pressing closer than breath. Her hands rove purposefully over his chest as her lips reach up to graze his left ear.

"Gibbs, I'll tell you want I want," she murmurs, confident and seductive. "I _want_…" she sighs and deliberately presses her hips into his: "your hands…on _my_ body…" Her hands skate down between their bodies to caress his stomach, making his flesh twitch beneath his shirt: "I want," she continues: "my mouth on _your_ body.…"

She takes a deep breath, switching sides to accost his other ear. He takes the opportunity to squeeze her ass and bury his face in her neck. His eyes are still closed tightly, drinking in the giddying scent of her skin and imaging exactly what she's telling him.

"I want every inch of your skin… touching every inch of mine," she breathes, beginning to place a series of whisper-soft kisses down his neck. "I want to kiss you…" she adds, squirming against him restlessly as he begins a similar sequence of kisses over her neck in return: "in every way known to mankind." She moans darkly and stretches her neck as he nibbles his way up to her ear.

Placing her hands on his face, she pulls him up to meet her gaze. "I want to wake up naked with you," she pants, her gaze openly caressing his face: "_Tomorrow_," she finishes quietly, her eyes warm and resolute.

"Is that clear enough for you, Gibbs?" she questions smoothly: "Seductive enough for you?"

He bobs his head slowly, waiting for his voice to return. "Just about," he croaks, staring down at her face with enthralled eyes.

She kisses him, teasingly light, and he responds by pulling her body against him, with both hands on her round ass. He grins wolfishly as he lets her feel the stiff promise between his legs.

Kate gasps ecstatically, her eyes slipping shut: "Oh, yes, I want that too…."

"All yours…" he grimaces, dropping his head backwards in pleasurable pain.

A door bangs, two women exit the bathrooms and walk past their concealed grove, chatting quietly. Regretfully, he lifts his hands to the safer territory of her shoulders and lets his head ease forward again, his brow resting hot against hers.

"Tell me we can get out of here soon," he groans, under his breath.

Kate smiles. "Don't you want dessert?" she coos, peering up at him coyly.

"Yes," he tells her pointedly, pulling back and looking her in the eye: "I do." He has a healthy hankering for some red underwear and young flesh – that will be sweet enough for him.

"We've waited this long…" she muses, her voice shivery: "would another hour hurt?"

He grunts, sullenly: "Easy for you to say."

"Think of," she looks to one side, slipping her arms up around his neck: "…think of Fornell."

"Humph," he hums, running his eyes over her neck and down into the enticing dip of her cleavage: "Bit hard to think of anything right now except your red underwear."

She gasps appalled, her eyes glinting petulantly: "Gibbs! You _saw_! You--!"

He's pretty sure she was about to call him a pig, but he stops her mouth with another kiss, heated and purposeful. His hands tangle in her thick hair as he tips her head to one side and slips his tongue into her mouth. He draws the air from her lungs into his, drinking the nectar of her mouth and her startled cries. He can feel her soft breasts crushed against his chest, her hips nestled into his aching pelvis and her arms clinging tightly to his neck.

It feels incredible. He can't get enough of her. He can't imagine a better feeling than this but he's pretty sure that later tonight they will discover several.

He breaks their kiss, and Kate tries to follow his mouth greedily, her eyes still closed in passion.

"Then again…" she swallows erratically, opening her hazy eyes and panting softly: "we could be at my place in twenty minutes."

He grins slightly and leans in to whisper in her ear. "Katie…?" he drawls, teasingly.

"What?" she whines, wriggling impatiently.

"Think of…. think of Tony," he mutters smugly and pulls back to look at her.

"Oh! _Ew_," she comments twistedly, slapping his shoulder lightly.

She quickly rights herself, giving him a little push on the chest with both hands, before she turns on her heel and stalks away. Gibbs chuckles, slumped against the wall, his head bobbing lazily.

"You coming?" she asks, turning back to him as she's about to slip out into the main area of the restaurant again.

He takes a cleansing breath: "In a minute," he nods.

She runs her eyes down over him, one delicate eyebrow arched: "Okay…."

"You better.… freshen up," he warns her lowly.

The effects of their fondling and kissing might be more obvious on his anatomy but if she returns to the table looking like that, there's going to be no doubt in anyone's mind what they were doing together.

Kate touches a hand to her flushed cheek and runs her fingers over her smudged, swollen lips. Then smiling shyly, she steps through the pot plants and heads down the corridor to the ladies room.

He tries not to watch. He tries not to covet the way her hips swing beneath the red silk. He tries to think of something – _anything _– that's not tempting or pretty or exciting or even vaguely sexual.

He tests Kate's suggestion of Tobias Fornell -- but whenever he thinks of Fornell, he thinks of meeting Kate. He can't help but recall her eyes glinting up at him ferociously, her hand sealing over his in a firm handshake, or her delicate shape as she lay outstretched and vulnerable on that sofa.

Giving himself a mental headslap, he dismisses that train of thought and attempts to locate another to distract him. After a few minutes of recalling Ducky's meat puzzle, he feels calmer and cooler and sufficiently deflated to return to the table. He glances down at himself, tugging at his clothes and making sure he's presentable. Then he heads back, with a deliberate stride and takes his seat, apologizing for his absence and rejoining the conversation.

A few minutes later, Kate returns from the bathroom, looking like her usual composed self. She slips one hand over his shoulder and glances down at him warmly as she sinks into her seat.

The other guests are polite enough to ignore their obvious impropriety. Sarah is the only one who sends her sister a slightly bewildered, slightly amused look.

Shortly, an elaborately decorated cake arrives at their table, glowing with candles, and the waitstaff join with their party in singing 'Happy Birthday' to Kate. Kate beams, looking slightly abashed, then blows out the thirty candles with one big breath.

As the others clap, Gibbs steals a hand over to rest on her leg and lightly strokes her thigh. Kate meets his eyes momentarily, her smaller hand finding his beneath the tabletop as his fingers give her a playful squeeze.

While the heat and the tension is still present, both are now far more at ease with the other and the direction they are heading in tonight. It's taken a long time for them to make it to this place; and, hopefully, thinks Gibbs, the remainder of the journey will prove effortless and highly enjoyable.

As her hand lies on top of his, keeping him firmly in place, Kate plucks a creamed cherry off the top of her birthday cake, popping it into her mouth with a giggle of delight.

_TBC…_


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Last Seduction

Author: MindyH

See Part One for full details. 

_Please Note: This is NOT the FULL version of this story. For those mature enough and wanting to access the adult chapters of this story, they are now up! Please head to the NCIS Fanfiction Archive. (I'm sorry for the wait, I had trouble posting on the site for some reason). _

_If you do not know the site, click on my name at the top of this page, then click on my homepage and it will take you directly there. Not all of my stories are there but all the adult ones are. __Thanks again to all who have read and responded and to all those who've been waiting for this story. I posted as fast as possible and I truly appreciate your enthusiasm and your patience. _

_Merry Christmas to all! M._

-x-

_Part VI_

Gibbs can't believe his own luck. He can't believe how quickly a man's life can change.

On Friday night, he slow-danced with a sad and drunk colleague, and went home alone to his empty bed where he'd dreamt only of her for too many lonely nights to recall. On Sunday evening, he sits between the legs of his beautiful new lover, gazing out at the calm waves as a cool breeze blows and the first stars appear in the twilit sky.

There really should have been some sort of warning, he muses as he strokes her knee; some sort of sign that everything was about to cave in around them. It took him completely by surprise – but then, Kate Todd always had. She's been a shock to his universe from the very beginning.

Maybe, he thinks, they had both lived with the accumulated desire and disappointment for so long that they'd finally and simply reached an inevitable breaking point. All they'd needed was the slightest reason to submit. And Kate's birthday provided that reason -- an excuse to give and receive, to be close, to be honest.

He woke up this morning with his arms full of Katie, overflowing with woman. His chest swelled just thinking about it. He'd dreamt of it. But nothing could ever have prepared him for how sweet the reality could actually be.

She was just there, all soft and mussed and radiant and stunning. Everything about her took his breath away. For a long time, he just lay with her, in her bed, the sheets reeking of man and woman united, her body curled contently against his as his eyes roved over her face and form, captivated, still curious and deeply fond.

As the sun rose higher through the windows and the world began to revolve again, he turned his eyes on their surroundings, noting the chaotic mess of her bedroom, the clothes on the floor, the ajar wardrobe, the open tub of cream and the uncapped perfume bottle on her bureau. It was all very fascinating, this peek into the secret world of Kate Todd.

With a soft kiss on her forehead, he slipped out of bed to investigate a little more. His muscles ached as he headed down the hall to the kitchen. After poking around a little, he managed to locate mugs and start some coffee. While it began to percolate, he wandered about quietly, looking at the photos in her living room.

On the mantle above the small fireplace, there were various pictures of her family; a portrait of her parents, her sister with her hubby and new baby, and Kate with what looked like a grandmother. He picked up an older image, laughing under his breath.

It showed a young Kate, about twelve years old, in a football jersey much too big for her, her long, dark hair in a messy ponytail. She was sandwiched between three big boys with unruly dark hair and all of them were covered in mud, wearing enormous, mischievous grins.

Kate, with the ball tucked under arm, had the same glimmer of spirit in her eyes, the same outrageous courage in her face that he'd first felt so bewitched by. She had probably been born brave, he thought to himself.

On a bookshelf opposite the mantle, above a picture of Kate with the President, was one of him and her, which he'd never seen before. He smirked, liking the fact that he ranked above the leader of the free world – at least in Kate's eyes.

The photo could've been taken at any one of countless crime scenes that they'd visited in the past few years. But he had a feeling it was a fairly recent shot – the level of comfort that was plainly obvious between them hinted at a long association.

They were both wearing NCIS issue jackets and caps. He had his hands on his hips and his head bent towards her as he spoke to her. Kate had a hand on the brim of her hat, and a slight smile on her lips as she held his gaze.

It seemed inconceivable to him that she'd been under his nose all this time. It seemed extraordinary that he'd lived so much of his life without her in it. He could never have known that meeting her would change him so dramatically, and that his life's existence up until then was somehow less, somehow vaguely inadequate.

But, staring at the photo of them, he'd suddenly felt complete, satisfied -- at peace. And, soon, he wanted to place a similar photo on his own mantle. A pure and intimate image of him with this woman, to show the world and remind himself of his own luck. But he wanted that professional guise gone and he wanted her smile to be unimpeded.

Still deep in thought, he'd headed for the shower, feeling unwashed and uncouth in her orderly living room. But he hadn't been standing under the spray long, still enjoying the presence of Kate all around him, when he felt her slip inside the bathroom. She joined him in the narrow cubicle and they showered together. He washed her precious skin and then hauled his wet, little nymph back to bed to seduce her as thoroughly as he had been seduced by her the night before.

Making love with Kate was about as beautiful experience as he's ever had in this world. He's never waited so long for a woman. He's never wanted someone so long and so much. And, as such, he's never known someone as deeply and completely as he knows Kate.

To discover this other side of the woman he's known professionally for years was thrilling and fascinating and touching. They were both, in turn, both predator and prey. It was a wonderful, decadent, momentous game.

He never imagined she'd be so….._so sexy_. She was alternately, a sex kitten, a young girl, a femme fatale and a glorious goddess. He's not sure which he loves most.

He had forgotten what an intense experience it was to be in bed with someone he truly cared about. He'd forgotten how intimate it was to say that you loved someone while joined with them bodily. He hadn't felt that connection with another in a long, long time. When Kate whispered that she loved him, an arrow had pierced his heart – and he knows he may never recover from the wound.

It had been her idea to take the _May December_ out again. They'd been sitting at the kitchen table, eating a very late breakfast, and she used the eyes on him – those cute, pleading eyes he was such a victim of. She'd added the voice, for equal measure, that coaxing, feminine tone she knew he had no choice but to fall for. He made her convince him, just for fun. And she did – she'd slithered onto his lap and kissed him so sweet, then whispered that she wanted to make love to him on the deck of a boat in the middle of the ocean.

She had to know that he couldn't refuse her. She had to know that what she was suggesting was his number one fantasy of all time -- with her as the obvious star. He couldn't think of anything he wanted more. He couldn't conceive of anything more sexy.

The boat was still locked up in his garage, so they left within an hour to retrieve her and head for the coast. He needs to return her today but he's sure it won't be a problem if they're a little late.

It's been another beautiful day, full of free-flowing kisses and promising touches and heated whispers. He's been watching his Kate wander around in little white shorts and a bikini top all day. He's watched her slather her sweet skin with sun lotion and peer at him from under the brim of an enormous sun hat. He got to wear the captain's hat today. Neither of them have broached the subject of what will happen the next day at work when they must revert to their usual roles and he becomes her boss again. To be honest, he's not that worried. Maybe he should be, with his previous experience mixing professional and personal. Or maybe, they will be just fine, taking things one day at a time, a step at a time, together.

He knows the subject is on Kate's mind as well, as she sits behind him, snuggled in close. They are seated on the cabin, Kate perched a little higher than him on the skylight, her legs spread either side of his body, her arms loosely draped about his shoulders and her chin nestled against his temple. He leans back into her soft body, his head on her shoulder, his hands on her knees.

The boat is anchored in place, bobbing gently on the waves. And the last of the day is disappearing before their eyes as they sit in silence, gazing out over the bow, huddled against the cooling sea air.

"I wish," she murmurs after a long hush: "we could just keep on sailing." She kisses his brow and sighs: "Right into the sunset," she mutters distantly.

He watches the far horizon where the golden sky meets the sapphire sea. "We can," he replies quietly, his hand keeping up the leisurely stroking of her left knee: "One day."

Kate smiles against his hair. "When?…" she hums, in an indulgent tone. She doesn't think he's serious.

"When I finish my boat," he nods, his voice lazy and pensive: "She'll be comfortable enough for two. We can take her on a trip for her maiden voyage."

Kate pokes her head over his shoulder to look at his face: "Are you serious?" she asks skeptically.

He turns his head to look at her incredulous face. "I'm always serious when I talk about boats," he tells her, deadpan.

Kate shakes her head slightly and smiles at him, her eyes gleaming with mirth. "So…" she murmurs dreamily, her arms winding around his neck a little tighter: "where will you take me?"

He slips one hand up her bent leg, from her knee to her upper thigh, his fingers brushing under the hem of her cute little shorts. His other hand captures one of hers, interlocking their fingers and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

Kate leans closer to him, biting her lip and searching his eyes. He smiles up at her as the wind blows her hair over her face for a moment. She flicks it out of the way and raises her eyebrows expectantly.

"Well, maybe, I can find some secluded little island…" he muses, his eyes roving warmly over her sun-kissed face: "where you can throw me down on the sand and seduce me all over again."

"Or vice versa," Kate responds, swiftly, tipping her head at him: "_You_ could throw _me_ down and seduce _me_ again," she suggests impishly.

He gives her hand another kiss and grins: "Can't we do both?"

She giggles, low and throaty, her nose nuzzling behind his ear, her eyelashes brushing his cheek. Her free hand skims through his hair absently as she turns back to the view, her face lifted into the breeze.

"How long will it take us to complete your boat?" she asks lightly.

The corners of his mouth turn up. He caught that 'we' – however deliberate or unconscious it was. He likes it. He likes the assumption it entails. He likes the intimacy it suggests.

And he especially likes the image of his new lover, his sweet seductress, his longtime dream girl in his basement, her little hands working on his boat, her soft body wrapped up in one of his over-sized shirts. Talk about fantasy becoming reality. He's always wanted to make love to her under his boat, against his boat, in his boat. He's pretty sure Kate won't have any objections.

"Hm, let's see…" he sighs, slipping one hand behind her neck and pulling her mouth down to his.

He kisses her, deep and slow, their tongues rolling around in each other's mouths. He feels her smile against his lips and melt into his back. Her fingers start to work on his shirt buttons as she shifts closer to him from behind. Pulling back a little, he returns her smile, his eyes intent on hers.

"Why don't we aim for your Thirty-first…?" he concludes softly.

Her smile increases. She nods eagerly, slips a hand into his shirt and kisses him again. He moves up, turning around with his open mouth still pinned to hers and pressing her onto her back on the cool deck. His warm flesh covers hers and she embraces him as their bodies tangle intimately once more under the deep blue, starlit sky.

_END. _


End file.
